Wishes Brought Back
by Jessaminebell
Summary: How long does a stupid rabbit take to finally come home? (HeejungXJiwoo)
1. Chapter 1

**_Wishes Brought Back_**

_"__I have to find him." _

_ Though I sad that... _

Heejung's eyes drifted out of her window, skimming across the nearby apartment complexes. She watched the rolling clouds overshadow the sun, blocking out a light that would cause her eyes to narrow in annoyance.

The girl twirled her pencil in her hand, feeling the tip of the graphite, and tracing back down to the eraser. Sure, it should have been scratching the canvas in front of her for the upcoming art show, but every so often, she could hear something. It sounded as though someone were calling her from a place very far away.

_The person who wrote in that book... I can't remember him, but he feels so familiar. I don't know his face, or his name, but it feels like I just... _

Heejung blinked, turning back to the sketch in front of her.

_I told myself that I had to find him. That I had to be the one to meet with him again, but if I leave, where would I go? How on Earth could I find out where I should go? He said he would find me, so I'm just.._

She tilted her head at the sketch, erasing several stray lines. With this finished, the girl smiled. She reached out to her nearby pallet, dipping a small brush used for details. She began to run it along the paper slowly, paying careful attention to her shaking hand.

_I'm just drifting through life right now. _

Heejung smiled.

_Waiting to be found. _


	2. Chapter 2

_ "_You know, Heejae, I don't think I've ever heard of anyone with your appetite."

"Really? I don't think it's that strange." Heejung looked up to Heejae, narrowing her eyes in confusion. The bag on her hand jingled about, rattling the head of cabbage and several cans of tomato paste.

Heejae nodded.

"Cabbage spaghetti? I mean, I don't think I've ever heard of it. You didn't eat it before, so where did you hear about it?"

_As always, he's questioning every little thing I do. 'Heejung, you never did that before you lost your memory. Maybe should do this instead!' __Ever since I woke up without any memories, he's taken it upon himself to be a guardian. _

Heejung glared towards the ground.

_Can't he just leave me alone..? _

The girl ignored her annoyance with a smile.

"Well, I mean, I've read about it in a book. I guess I just wanted to try it."

"I haven't seen it in any book I've read before. Are you sure it's even a real food? I'm not so sure."

Heejung glanced around, skimming across the faces appearing and disappearing along the street. She let out a small laugh.

"Well, I guess it's a food now."

* * *

><p><em> I have no recollection of my previous life. It's as if everything is behind thick glass, and there's someone banging against it. I can see their shape, and I feel as though the voice is familiar, but I can't talk to them. I can't remember. <em>

_ Why?_

Heejung leaned back in her seat, measuring the strokes of paint on her canvas. The browns and whites were so contrasting that it made the center piece of the painting really pop out. The green sparkling eyes were such a similar shade to the wide open field of grass that one could almost mistake a few strands of grass as the iris. In all, Heejung was very happy with the work she had poured into her piece.

_I may not remember anything about my professions, or what I was good at, but that doesn't mean I can't do the things that truly make me happy. Maybe I enjoyed painting before too. Maybe that's why I feel so at peace when I'm sketching butterflies at the park or painting stacks of books. _

"I honestly don't know if I'll ever regain my memory..." She lamented silently, debating with the painting before her. For a moment, she could almost feel the small animal in the painting speaking back to her. She narrowed her eyes.

"But even so.. I want to know who was in that book. It's been so long, but he hasn't showed up. Why?" She sighed, standing up.

_I don't want to be dependent on living my life, just waiting for someone I don't even know. I... I have to keep going. I have to live. I have to live my own way. _

She took a glance towards her painting, smiling sincerely.

_Yes... I will live the life of the person I am now. Not the person I was. And maybe.. _

_ Maybe I'll see him again._

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you want to do this, Heejung? I mean... It's so far. You moved away for a reason."<p>

"But I don't remember that reason, Heejae." The girl grew tired of the fretting male next to her, as she turned with a reassuring smile. Hopefully she'd finally be able to get away from his constant worrying. Honestly, she would have thought he was her father.

"Listen, Heejae... You've been so nice to me, even if I don't remember who you are, but..."

A small breeze ruffled through the girl's curled hair, nearly breaking the locks free from her pink headband. She turned to face the companion whom was very concerned with the suitcase held in her hand.

Heejung could only smile.

"I have to live for myself. I don't think I'll ever remember who I am, so I should start making a new life. If I don't start now, I don't think I ever will. And my paintings-"  
>"Your paintings were always the best in the club." Heejae interrupted, removing the glasses from his eyes. With such thick spectacles gone, the girl could identify the tears in his eyes. He let out a small grin.<p>

"I'm just surprised you weren't found by an agent before!" He laughed, yet only sadness was present in the action. He wiped clean his glasses, once again replacing them on his face to hopefully hide the clear liquid. With this, Heejae nodded. He took a step back.

"You were a really great friend, Heejung. I'll come visit you when you make it big, okay?"

Heejae nodded, though no tears came to her eyes.

"Of course. Thank you, Heejae." Not wanting to watch the young man lose anymore of his pride, Heejung climbed into the taxi waiting in front of the apartment building. The loud slam of the door closed her eyes.

_I didn't know him, but he cried as though we were lovers. Somehow, it just annoys me. Just who did he think was he? _

The girl's amber eyes looked upwards to meet with the apartment building she had spent so many confused days spacing out in. It shouldn't have held any memories for her, but leaving it felt so..

_I feel like I'm leaving something behind. Strange, I checked and checked again to make sure nothing was left in any of the rooms. _

Heejung clutched a small book in her hands, squeezing the cover for support. Somehow, holding the fairy tail-esque story made her feel better.

However, before the girl could find the strength to glance away from her home, the car began to pull away. The shifting image of her apartment complex faded out of view of the taxi as the two turned a corner.

Heejung closed her eyes.

_And today's the first day of my life. _


	3. Chapter 3

"_The event is in two days, remember? You can't be late. In fact, be there an hour earlier. Or maybe even two hours. You can never tell which invitees are going to be camping outside well before the event starts. The only thing that matters is that you're there first." _

"I understand." Heejung kept the cell phone glued to her ear as she reached forward for another fork of long noddles bathed in red sauce. As she twirled a strand to her utensil, a small chunk of cabbage flew off, settling on the floor just to her feet. She glared to the chunk, angry at her mistake. With little care to the impression she would make to her agent, the girl began to reach down. She extended her fingers, though the cabbage was still quite some distance away.

"_And make sure you're eating right. This is your first event, and I don't think anyone wants to see a malnourished up-and-coming artist. Ms. Heejung, you do understand how important looks are for a first appearance, correct?" _

Heejung stretched out further.

"Uh-huh. You've already given me what I'm supposed to wear, and even showed me a make-up tutorial."

"_I'm just so worried. I've seen so many promising clients screw up because of nervousness. And this is your one big chance. If we don't find you a buyer for at least one of your paintings... Just remember one thing, Ms. Heejung," _

Half-listening, the girl could feel the sauce from the small chunk of cabbage.

"_Remember that you have to be the **best.**"_

Those cold words froze the girl on the line. Her body tensed as her eyes widened. Heejung suddenly felt very, very cold.

"_Well, look at the time.. I'll call you tomorrow. Good bye, Ms. Heejung." _

Upon hearing the click of a phone from the other side of the conversation, Heejung allowed her cell to drop from her shoulder. It banged to the floor, though she heard nothing. Instead, the girl straightened her posture, staring down to the chunk of cabbage on the ground. She blinked slowly.

_Be... The best..? But I... _

Her amber eyes traced towards a nearby window, seeing the tops of Seoul buildings. These rooftops seemed much more square and ubiquitous than the ones she had seen from her room in Busan. They did little to comfort her.

_How can I be the best? How can I.._

She squeezed her fork.

_How can I make them like me when I'm still finding out about myself?_

* * *

><p><em> "Heejung!" <em>

_ "Hey, it's Heejung! The new artist! Heejung!"_

_ "Her artwork is so pretty! I love how much green is in everything!"_

Surrounded by many, a small girl tried her best to smile. They crowded her, begging for her attention, for even a glance their way. In every respect, the girl felt smothered. Though, she knew, she had to appear happy. Ecstatic. For what type of impression would an anxious and nervous artist make to the public and interested buyers?

Not someone they would purchase anything from.

**"****You know, I really don't like any of your art. It's too contemporary." **

A single voice parted the crowd of onlookers, directing the artist's attention to his back. He stared forward, carefully inspecting the many straight lines on one of the larger paintings the artist especially enjoyed making. He glared green bullets, grabbing an edge of the painting. With a swift hand, he ripped the paper.

**"It's all so stupid. Just where did you learn to paint so half-assly?" **He scoffed, letting the paper drift and settle to the ground. With this, the man shook his head.

**"Is this what you really want for yourself..?"**

* * *

><p>Awaking with a start, Heejung ripped the covers from herself much like the nightmare had torn her painting. She darted her head around, eyes wide, and breaths fast. She searched for any intruders, hoping that the damage done to her art wasn't true.<p>

In due time, Heejung's heart rate decreased. She settled down, positioning herself to a much more comfortable position. With this, she rubbed her temples.

_It was just a dream. It wasn't anything else. All my pieces are locked in the gallery. They have night guards, and security cameras, and.._

She sighed, exhaling everything still in her lungs.

_But that guy... Why did he say those horrible things? Of course this is what I want for myself. I chose my new life, and I'm following through with it. There's no turning back from here. And contemporary is..._

She eyed the square buildings, running her pupils along the many straight edges that allowed no free-form or grass of any kind.

_I can only paint what I can see. _


	4. Chapter 4

"_Good afternoon, Ms. Heejung. You're looking beautiful today. I'm glad to see you followed my advice with the outfit." _

"Of course. What else would I wear?"

_"And I'm especially glad you chose that jewelry. Did you know that the manufacturer's wife is coming today? I'm sure that can help you spark a conversation with her."_

Heejung felt the uncomfortable pain in her feet that came with the pink inch heels she had been forced to wear. Despite the annoyance, she continued to stride next to her manager, nodding to the woman's words. Maybe she could absorb some information between all the stress by osmosis. After all, she could barely remember her own name in such circumstances.

The gallery before Heejung was empty of anyone. Sure, guards occasionally strolled by, and her manager was flitting from place to place, but apart from those few, no civilians walked by, admiring the pieces by many new artists. Some of her work was up there too, though at the moment, all the square frames seemed the same. Each contemporary piece was the same as the last, and nothing was unique or refreshing, and that was how it was supposed to be, but...

"..._Oh, and that one piece, the one you said I shouldn't even show anyone. Well, the gallery owner said he needed one more painting for a small side section, so I gave it to him."_

Despite being so spaced out, Heejung perked up. Her smile left her.

"B-But that piece is-"

_It's just so different from all my contemporary works. It's the only one I finished in my apartment in Busan: My old life. _

_ "Don't worry: It's a section that's completely out of the way. I doubt anyone's even going to leave the main room. That's why I fought tooth and nail for your best works to be stationed there. Trust me." _

The conversation seemed to end, as the woman was called away from Heejung's side. She spoke a quick farewell, disappearing around a corner. This left the artist all alone, surrounded by squares and rectangles of varying shades of color. She looked around, yet as before, she couldn't recognize her own from any of them.

_I'm finally here. I made it all this way on my own. Without Heejae, or anyone else. I'm here._

The girl strode forward silently, hearing her clicking heels in the resounding room. Her amber eyes, overwhelmed by the swirling strokes around her, decided to focus on the ground. She trailed forward, seeing the bottom of her sparkling pink dress. Oddly, she didn't need to find a matching headband, as her usual piece already matched quite well.

_Maybe she's right. Maybe my painting is somewhere no one will find it. Hopefu-"_

"I came here to see actual art. Not this crap. How many rulers did _this _take to make?" An indignant voice rose above Heejung's thoughts, whipping her head upwards.

Standing in front of one of the girl's larger pieces was a man measuring every brush stroke. His blonde hair was brushed straight, sweeping around his piercing emerald eyes. Silver frames hid the full effect of his eyes, dulling them along with his annoyed glare.

The man was dressed in a well made suit, curving around his body and showing off his broad shoulders. However, these shoulders were tucked in slightly as he crossed his arms.

"Was she even trying..?" He asked with a huff, resigning to turn around. Upon doing so, the man froze. His arms dropped to his sides, and his eyes widened twice their size.

_This is my chance. _

"Excuse me, but that's my art." Despite everything she wanted to say, only those words came out of her mouth. Heejung swallowed hard.

_Why is he just staring at me? Did he just want to insult my art in silence, and I interrupted him? _

Despite being so shell-shocked, the man began to open his mouth.

"Heej-"

"_Ms. Heejung? Where are you? They're opening the doors!" _

_ "_I'll be right there!" Heejung responded, eyes not leaving the man in front of her. His mouth still lie open as if he wished to speak, yet no words stopped the artist.

Heejung stepped forward, striding past the rude man. For a moment, their eyes met, only anger in the amber iris.

The man was left all alone, not paying anymore attention to the painting he had been heckling. It was strange that the artist he would have assumed to take the insults had given such an angry stare. He watched the girl's back, lips coming together into a determined frown.

_** Heejung. **_


	5. The Climax Has Begun, My Heroine

Crowds of high class attire swirled around the gallery, making the young and upcoming

artist rather conscious about herself. Short black and white dresses clung closely to women married to the highest of class men. Their makeup made their natural faces appear as strangers, though none there seemed willful enough to admit such a thing.

The artist conducted herself as she saw fit, smiles being given like pennies. She didn't limit herself to one individual, as she could find none to truly connect with. All individuals there seemed only interested in maintaining image, or finding a different artist every week to paint the same thing. So the girl drifted around the room just as the other artists did, striking up a conversation with anyone paying any mind to their work.

_I feel so dirty. _Walking towards her own work, Heejung allowed her eyes to droop. It wasn't to say she was bored, but… Disappointed. But what was it that disappointed her? Her work was being displayed in one of the most fancy galleries in the city. She was conducting herself with the richest women and highest class of men. Even more, she could see a bright future in private painting. All she needed to do was talk to the right person.

_I want to go home. But I don't even know where that is anymore. _

Heejung's pink heels began to walk away from the crowd, focusing on a much more isolated hallway. Perhaps she could rest the muscles around her cheeks for a moment before putting on a plastic smile again.

The dark hallway Heejung had found herself walking into was a space that no one in the showing had wandered towards. She seemed to be the only one accompanying the flickering old lightbulb above.

_Where does this hallway lead to…? _

True, she should have gone back to the party, and her agent must have been frantically searching for her, but curiosity was a more driving factor.

Heejung's heels began to sound louder than the hum of voices in the main room as she walked forward. Her eyes squinted to see a single light in the distance, but as she became closer, she saw this light blocked out by a body. The person staring at the light moved not an inch, though, just by the broad shoulders and finely tailored suit, Heejung knew who it must have been. Her curiosity left her, and she no longer felt any need to see what he was staring at. She began to turn on her heel.

"You know, I've always loved art." The man spoke, not turning back.

Heejung stopped her spin, allowing the man to continue.

"Always. Good art can allow someone to see into the artist's soul. You see what they see, and you can't always tell what they were thinking, but I like that. Your art, on the other hand..." He trailed off, sighing.

"I can't see you in it at all. It's so mechanical and unfeeling. Contemporary? You? Don't make me laugh. You're so much more than that."

With this phrase, the girl felt the bubbling rage start to take hold of her again. She strode forward angrily, standing in front of the piece the man was staring to. She glared with all her might, feeling the lights behind her supporting her.

"And how do you know so much about me? How do you know that it's not me!?" He was seriously starting to irritate her. Acting like a know-it-all, brandishing her art off as if it had no style or effort. She had spent so much time on each and every piece.

The man refocused his green eyes to the girl. His spacy expression was soon filled with a warm smile that set Heejung on the edge. Just _who _was this guy?

"I know enough of you to know that those paintings aren't what you really enjoy doing. Socializing with people in a higher class than you're used to. They're all things that make you uneasy. But this..." He glanced past her, eyeing the painting she had overlooked. The man's smile grew to show his white teeth.

"This is who you are. This is the Heejung I know, and the person you remembered me as, even if I was forgotten."

For a moment, no words came to the girl's mouth. She simply turned, eyes widening at the sight.

Bathed in the light of a functioning lamp was a lone painting that the gallery owner just needed to use for loose space. It was out of the way in a dark hallway that not many guests wanted to walk down, and the lighting was probably the worst, but there it hung, showing off the bright and vivid colors.

A field in the midst of a sunny afternoon saw no clouds in the sky. The blue went on forever, almost as if it were an ocean suspended in the air. This sky looked over a countryside of swaying long grass. The green was blended into many shades to create the effect of gently swaying plants, one skill that not many artists had learned. Lying gently on this grass was a red and white checkered blanket with many folds in the cloth. Someone looking on could have grabbed a corner and ran it along their face, feeling the warmth and softness.

However, despite all of these beautifully created attributes, none could focus on anything but the main focus of the painting. It was front and center, demanding all attention as if it were a spoiled child.

Sitting gently on the checkered blanket was a small rabbit. This rabbit was unlike any of the other rabbits in any other paintings, what with it's beautiful brown spots painted lovingly along ivory fur. It's inner ears were such a cute pink that told everyone just how soft the flesh must be. The rabbit stared not forward, but at the hand resting on its head, emerald eyes saying thousands of words that it could not express.

This serene picture of a pet and its master was nothing compared to anything he had seen over the years. His eyes watered almost as if he were crying.

"How did you make this..? Did some part of you still remember..?" He whispered, looking back into Heejung's eyes.

However, not even the girl could offer an answer.

_I don't even know where I got the inspiration for it. I just couldn't sleep one night, and this is what happened. Somehow, whenever I look at it, I feel so at peace. I didn't want to get rid of it at an art show like this. _

Heejung eyed the man once again.

_He... Could he be..? _

"_Ms. Heejung!?" _Heejung whipped her head towards the entrance of the hallway.

"_The bidding is going to be starting now! You __**must **__be a part of it!" _The words shouted down the hallway were meant as more of a threat than an invitation.

"We should get going, then, Ms. Heejung." The girl looked back to the man, seeing his hand extended towards her. Any hint of his glossy eyes was gone, replaced with a devious glimmer in the green.

"Well? Or are you really as dense as when I was with you the last time?" He laughed.

Heejung remained silent, her mind reeling as she tried to figure out the strange words, connecting them all the book in her apartment.

Sighing, the man reached towards her wrist. Here, he interlocked their fingers and yanked her forward. Heejung was forced to follow along, clicking her heels along the ground. She watched the man's blonde hair bounding up and down as he walked.

"You stupid. It's called 'holding hands.' How can you forget something like that, too?" He shook his head.

Before Heejung could open her mouth, the two were revealed to the bright lights of the main gallery room. She took a moment to adjust, glancing up to the man standing tall next to her.

"You're-"

"_Ms. Heejung! I've been looking for you everywhere! Everyone's been wondering where you went—Oh!" _The woman responsible for bringing Heejung to this gallery let out a small gasp as she turned to the tall man. She smiled on impulse, laughing.

"_It's an honor to finally meet with you, Mr. Shinhan. I was told you were attending just this afternoon. I hope that you're enjoying yourself."_

"Of course. I've always loved art, and, recently, I've been on the look out for a private painter."

The two in front of Heejung began to talk as if they were old friends, though the painter could only flit her eyes from side to side to keep up. The hand around hers seemed to tighten.

"Um.. If you don't mind me asking.." Heejung finally spoke, shifting both persons towards her.

"Who are you..?"

At this comment, her agent's eyes bugged out as if she had uttered the worst insult. The woman dug into Heejung's shoulders, dragging her away momentarily.

"_Ms. Heejung, I don't think you understand just who we're dealing with." _

Truth be told, she didn't. Not in the least.

Heejung swallowed hard, squeezing the hand that had been held so tightly and dearly by a stranger.

"No, I don't." She whispered back.

"_Well, let me enlighten you. That is Mr. Shinhan, the CEO of Shinhan Banks. As in, one of the most acclaimed banks in Seoul. He's rich, powerful, and single, Heejung. And he has the power to make you the richest artist that this gallery has ever seen." _Obviously, he was kind of a big deal. At least, a bigger deal than Heejung had thought him to be. She glanced back, sensing his stare on her.

_A CEO of a big bank? He just seems like a spoiled child to me. _

Indeed, Mr. Shinhan's eyes were directly tracing the girl, almost as if he were searching for something. It only made her uneasy.

"_**All the pieces have been collected," **_A voice boomed, snapping the three's heads towards the main gathering of people.

_**"So if everyone is ready, then the auctioning will begin." **_

Before she could even think to approach the CEO again, Heejung was whisked away to a better vantage point of the auction. She struggled to keep up with her manager, glancing back only once.

Only once to see the endearing smile of a complete stranger.


	6. Chapter 6

"_**This was said to be inspired by the view from Ms. Kai's apartment window. We can start the auctioning at 2,85**__**0**__**,000 Wons." **_

_There are so many wonderful artists here. Why am I even here? _Heejung watched as the middle aged woman strode to the stage, smiling in a way to advertise her artwork. Her professional behavior made none question her right to be at the show, though that only ate away at the heart inside of Heejung. Her teeth ground back and forth.

_I shouldn't be here. What if... What if no one wants to bid on my artwork..? What if I'm just left standing on the stage?_

"_**And the work goes to the young woman in the front for 6,58**__**0**__**,000 Wons. You can approach me after the auction to complete the transaction, thank you very much. Let's move on to the next artist. Would Ms. Heejung Kim make her way to the stage? We'll begin auctioning the piece, 'Ephemeral Dreams.'" **_

Heejung had heard the announcement, yet it didn't register. Her mind was blank as she stood, and only white noise filled her ears as she strode to the front of the gawking crowd. A plastic smile became fixed to her face, though she could only find the strength to keep it pointed to the ground. She could feel her agent's angry gaze, though nothing could be done to soothe her shaking knees and bugged eyes. Perhaps it was for the best that she keep her terrified stare to the ground.

"_**Like before, we'll start the bidding at 2,85**__**0**__**,000 Wons. Will anyone claim the piece?" **_

_Can't this just be over already? I can't take much more of the stares. _She breathed deeply, hoping no one would try to outbid the first taker. Maybe it could end sooner.

"_**I said, will anyone take 'Ephemeral Dreams' for 2,85**__**0**__**,000 Wons?" **_The nervous question of the auctioneer had Heejung snapping her head upwards. She eyed the crowd, searching for a single raised pallet.

_No. _

Stares pierced into her, yet no one made a sound. There was no movement between the crowd and the deer caught in the headlights.

No one wanted the artwork.

The man holding tightly to the microphone chuckled out of nervousness. Her readjusted his collar.

"_**Perhaps 600,000 Wons? Do I have any takers for 600,000 Wons?" **_

Yet again, the only movement was of the slight shuffling or whispering of entertained women. They smirked up to the stage, and some even openly snickered. Their whispering words circulated throughout the crowd.

_She said I would have no problems selling any of them. She said that I would blend in. _Heejung looked over to her agent desperately, yet she found no help. The seat lie empty, almost as though the woman had been too embarrassed to stay.

Heejung was alone.

"_**Perhaps my mic is broken? I said, does anyone wish to start the bidding? Maybe I'm starting off too low." **_No matter how he tried to lighten the mood, the auctioneer could not wipe off the expression of terror on Heejung's face. She stood in the spotlight, not wanting to stay in view of anyone, yet being unable to move even an inch.

"_I will." _A lone pallet rose in the audience, and the woman stood up.

"_I'll take it for 5000 Wons." _A smile settled on her face as she laughed._"I suppose I can let my niece play around with it." _

_5000 Wons..? That's... _Tears settled in Heejung's eyes.

_That's pocket change. Are they laughing at me? Is this supposed to be hazing? _

"_**5000 Wons..? I'm not sure I can sell it for something like that..." **_

"_And why not? It'll just end up in the trash if you don't. May as well buy the girl a lunch with the money." _Voices joined in the opinion of the buyer, leaving Heejung fighting off the liquid threatening to trail down her cheeks and stain her face a watered-down black similar to her eyeliner.

"_**Alright... Sold. To the woman in the green dress for 5000 Wons. On to the next piece. If Ms. Kai would return to the stage..." **_

Standing alone, Heejung's hands swung back and forth on her sides, mimicking the walking she did so easily every day. At this time, however, she could not think how to walk naturally. The tears strolled down her downcast face as she strolled past the staring crowd and around a bend.

_Why did I come..?_

* * *

><p><em>AN: <em>_**2,85**__**0**__**,000 Wons **__**is about equivalent to **__**2,598 US dollars, while **__**5,000 Wons is **__**only **__**about 5 dollar.**_


	7. Chapter 7

"_**Sold to the beautiful blonde woman with the pearl necklace for 5,860,000 Wons! That wraps up Ms. Kai's outwork, bringing the total of her worth to be... A whopping 71,763,000 Wons! We'll be moving onto the next artist after a short break..."**_

The hum of the auctioneer shook the walls of the supply closet, though Heejung paid little attention. She squeezed her knees tighter, trying to disappear from the gallery. There was no exit other than the front and side doors, and the amused crowd was an obstacle she couldn't face again. Maybe if she waited until the end of the party, she could sneak past the few that were left. It was better than facing their superior smirks and patronizing tones.

A broom closet was where she belonged.

A knock came to the door the girl's back was supported by. It tried to open, but the lock she had flipped stopped the passerby.

_Maybe they'll go away now. _Heejung sniffed silently, lifting her head to listen.

"Hey." A deep voice boomed from outside, causing the girl to jump. After such a silence after the knock, she had assumed the individual had left. That was not the case, as she felt another forceful knock shake the door.

"Are you hiding now? Hardly seems fitting to an artist with work at a gallery."

_Who is he? Is it the banker from before? It sounds like him. _

"I wasn't welcome out there. You saw what happened." She sniffed, trying to wipe the black streaks of make-up from her cheeks. Was she a sight to see right now? Of course, she had a mirror in her purse, but nothing compelled her to bring it out for her to see. What was the point?

A strange sound of sliding came from the other side of the door. Soon, a weight pushed back against the flimsy wood, almost as if the mystery man had sat down and was now leaning just as Heejung was.

The banker stared up to the ceiling from his side of the door. Sighing, he closed his eyes.

"Crowds can be hard. They can be unpredictable. I know that better than anyone else."

_Unpredictable? That's what he calls unpredictable? How they curb-stomped my piece and spit on it? _

Another long sigh came from the other side of Heejung's door. She rubber her eyes, sniffing again. Looking down, she saw only a faded circle of black eye-liner. Of course it was running. How could she walk home looking like this?

"But you know, I... I think you should go out there again, Ms. Artist." A small laugh from the banker had a deep rage building up in Heejung. Did he think this was funny?

"What?" She asked, glaring to the knob of the door.

"You should go out there, to the art show. You shouldn't let them try to drive you off."

_He really doesn't understand anything. _

Heejung buried her head into her knees at the memory of the empty stage resurfacing. How many years would it take for her to be able to forget?

"What does it matter? They didn't like my artwork. What other point is there?"

_I'll only stand there as they try to impress each other by bidding lower and lower. I should just stay here. _

"You're right. May as well spend the rest of your life in a broom closet. May as well give up now—"

"You don't understand!" A shout took hold of her shaking body. Her tears seemed to resume as Heejung yelled to the stranger.

"I _tried. _I did my best, but it didn't mean anything! They hated my artwork in the end, just like you hated it! I have nothing left! I have nothing else that I'm good at! I'm humiliated and useless! What's worse is that I chose this! I moved, I got an agent, but even though I tried so hard, _nothing worked. _How can you hope to understand any of that!?" She sobbed, squeezing her fists to try and stop the tears.

The speech-taken banker let out a small sigh. He closed his eyes, trying to summon the words to convey his well-meant thoughts.

"When you try your best, really giving everything that you have, only to fail... I've experienced it before. I... I know what it feels like. Like you can never get anything right. Like you're just floating through empty space, trying to find something that you can actually grasp for yourself, without the help of others." He held his hand out in front of him, squeezing hard enough to turn the knuckles white.

"But, you know... Even if you did choose this life for yourself, and even if it didn't work out, there's one thing that you can do to make up for it." He smiled.

"You can try again. You can try doing the same thing, or completely rewrite your life. If you can't see yourself through business school, you can rewrite yourself as an artist. And if you can't succeed in being an artist, you can always rewrite that, too. It's completely up to you, Heejung. You're the one who has the power to keep going, even if it means quitting something else. That's what makes you so amazing."

The words left a silence between the two separated by a door. The banker sat alone, hoping the lack of words meant he had gotten through to her.

_**You taught me those things, Heejung. You told me to build a new life if the one I had worked so hard for suddenly disintegrated. I want you to remember your words. **_

The wood supporting the banker suddenly fell out, sending him to his back. His head landed with a thud to the carpeting, widening his eyes in shock. Staring up with large green eyes, he saw a tear-stained face with a small smile. It was a sad one, but nonetheless, he had managed to make the tears stop.

The banker smiled back, feeling a weight disappear from his chest.

"Let's get back to the art show, okay? You've got some art to sell."

"Alright."


	8. Chapter 8

"Excuse me."

Turning around, the auctioneer was surprised to see a blonde man standing confidently before him. The man smiled, stepping to his side to reveal the hiding artist behind him. Though she had been crying just moments earlier, a thin sheet of make-up had covered the evidence. Even so, she avoided the auctioneer's stare, depending on the banker in front of her to speak.

"_**You're Ms. Heejung. Listen, that auction-"**_

"We're not here to talk about that, sir." Once again, the banker established his own presence, turning the announcer's eyes back to his smile.

Though, the auctioneer could tell, it wasn't a happy smile.

Not.

At.

All.

"We're here to discuss Heejung's other artwork, and when the auctions for those will take place. Could you tell us that?"

The auctioneer swallowed hard. He knew who this man was. What, with the finely made suit, the silver frames, and unmistakably bright blonde hair. Just who _didn't _know who he was? He was the nobody that popped out of nowhere, establishing one of the most powerful banks in all of Korea. He was dangerous. And he was angry.

"_**A-Are you sure? I mean, the way that the other auction with her went... I just don't think... Mr. Shinhan, can I speak with you? Privately?" **_The sweat forming to his forehead could nearly fill a swimming pool, but even so, he managed to maintain his composure and pull the CEO to the side. They looked back to Heejung, seeing only hair acting as a curtain. What expression of despair did she have?

"_**Mr. Shinhan, I've been auctioneer for a very long time. I've seen many artists humiliated on that stage. For some reason, the crowd decides to single out someone, and once that person is decided upon, their career is over. They're laughed out of every gallery, and there's nothing they can do about it. It's horrible, but that's just how the people here are."**_His voice lowered to a whisper.

"**_My best advice for her is to leave. I can have the gallery bring her paintings to her apartment, but to save her anymore grief, it would be best for her to leave. Participating in another auction with these sharks around... I can't imagine what that would do to her."_ **Finishing, the man took a sip from his drink. He sighed, shaking his head and looking for the banker's understanding.

Instead, he only found a smile. It was an entertained smirk, but not as though he was making fun of the girl. It was a happy, nostalgic, sweet smile that he glanced to Heejung with. Though she didn't look up to see it, it stood strong.

"You really think that about her? What is it that you think when you look at her? 'She's weak. This life is too hard for her. Shouldn't she just give up now.' ?" He shook his head.

"Or do you all look to her, trying to break her down, trying to break her? I wonder what gave any of you that image. What made all of you think that she's a helpless little child?"

The banker turned back, smiling to the auctioneer.

"She's so much more than that. And you'll see."


	9. Chapter 9

"**_Welcome back to the auction, ladies and gentlemen. We still have many fine pieces for bid. Let's start off with,"_ **Giving a glance towards the still-smiling Mr. Shinhan, the auctioneer continued with his speech. He forced a grin.

"_**Well, would Ms. Heejung Kim return to the stage? We can continue auctioning off her pieces. Starting with 'Eterno perseveranza,' a contemporary piece focusing on dark blues." **_

Making her way to the stage, Heejung stood alone in the spotlight once again. Her downcast stare glanced up once, looking to the banker whom had inspired her to stand up again. She saw him standing not far from the stage, a reassuring smile on his face. She smiled a plastic smile back, no longer remembering the words that had made her leave the broom closet. With the whispers and glares she was receiving, how could she? Nonetheless, she stood alone, determined to try and follow the banker's advice. She couldn't abandon the life and start again before knowing if she would be giving up on her passion. Before having the courage to defend herself.

"_**We'll start the bidding at 2,850,000 Wons just like before. Do I hear anyone for 2,850,000 Wons? A dark piece like this would look lovely in a light room. Anyone for 2,850,000 Wons?" **_

Silence shook Heejung's heart unlike an uproar ever could. She breathed deeply, struggling to feed her gasping breath. She tried to compose herself, to at least seem strong in front of the laughing women and smirking men in outfits far more expensive than her own apartment. Could they see her attempt to stop her shaking hands by gripping her wrist tightly in front of her? Did her red puffy face from sobbing come through in the make-up?

"_Someone just put her out of her misery. How about 10,000 Wons? I'll take it for 10,000 Wons." _An angered man rose his pallet as if he had somewhere else to be and just wished to move on. Maybe it seemed like the right thing to do in the circumstance, but it only increased Heejung's heartbeat. She clenched her teeth, shooting her sight to the ground again.

_I stood up here to decide if I want to continue painting. If I can keep doing what I enjoy, even if my best isn't good enough for other people. Can I really do what I love if I don't get the recognition that my career depends on..?_

"**We'll..." **The auctioneer let out an uncomfortable smile.

"**We'll move on to the next piece. This particular one was said to be inspired by..." **He glanced down to the note card in his hand, glancing towards the painting in confusion. He narrowed his eyes as though someone had made a huge mistake.

"**Well, it's not contemporary, that's for sure." **

Heejung's eyes widened in fear. Her mouth gaped as she stared to the ultimate humiliation.

_It wasn't even supposed to be here..! What's it doing in the show!? After everything I went through!? It's not-_

She whipped her head to the increasing volume of the patrons. Instead of entertained smirks, glares and scowls were present on their faces. A new terror took hold of the artist.

_That is not the type of contemporary that this gallery has! Everything at the auction is abstract, and the audience is **strictly **here for abstract. This humiliation is..._

"_**There's an interesting story about this piece. As many of you have read, Ms. Heejung Kim has suffered from amnesia, and sometimes, insomnia has been known to accompany the symptoms. This painting was made completely in the night when the artist could not sleep. What a story to accompany a piece, no matter how strange the style is for the auction." **_He was obviously trying to help, though no one seemed to take the bait.

"_A painting like **that **in a gallery like this? What was she thinking? It's the most hideous thing I've ever seen in my life."  
>"Well, she probably tried this type of style when she noticed her abstract pieces were not working out. Funny how she couldn't even get the basics down." <em>

"_She should have just left during the break. It would have saved her some humiliation." _

Heejung remained in the spotlight, unable to turn and face the embarrassment that had been mistakenly placed into the auction.

"**The title of the piece, 'Wishes Brought Back,' will start at 2,850,000 Wons just as before. Do I hear anyone for 2,850,000 Wons?" **

_I never should have thought to become an artist. Maybe all those awards I found in my old apartment weren't even mine. _

"_**A piece with a story like this one only comes in a few years, folks. Will anyone take it for 2,850,000 Wons?"**_

_I'm a lost case. I should have stayed home. I shouldn't have moved here. I shouldn't have quit school just for a life that could never be mine. _

"_**What about 1,000,000 Wons? Do I hear anyone for 'Wishes Brought Back?' Does anyone want 'Wishes Brought Back?'"**_

Heejung felt the tears again. She squeezed her wrist tighter, teeth clenching.

_I've never been in control of my life, and I never will be. Why can't I just disappear..? _

"2,000,000,000 Wons."

A single pallet rose in a sea of complaints, hushing those around the man. He rose silently, green eyes cutting deeply into the artist slowly lifting her tear-stained face. A serious look of determination stared back into her, stopping her thoughts and shaking. Heejung released her wrist, exhaling slowly.

The auctioneer was silent for a moment as the shock washed over him. Suddenly, a smile lit up to his face. His hand fiercely clutched at the mic as he laughed.

"_**2,000,000,000 Wons! Do I hear anyone else? Does anyone wish to outbid 2,000,000,000 Wons!?" **_A true happiness was projected quickly to Heejung before he resumed in his stare to the dumbstruck crowd.

Most were speechless, yet others openly voiced their aggression.

"_2,000,000,000 Wons!? Are you fucking kidding me? That type of artwork doesn't deserve even a cent!? How did she get to sell for more than Kai!?"_

"_Mr. Shinhan has **NEVER **bid on anything before! And now he decides to spend so much on something that isn't worth anything!?" _

"_What an idiot." _

With no other bids, the auctioneer let loose another laugh.

"_**Sold! To Mr. Shinhan for 2,000,000,000 Wons!" **_

Mr. Shinhan ignored these words, his eyes focused sharply into Heejung's. He worked his way from his seat, striding towards the stage and appearing next to Heejung. He gave only a light smirk before examining his piece. Looking from all angles, he chuckled.

"Funny the things you can actually remember. I told you once there would be a time where I wouldn't let you sleep throughout the night, but I guess you took it into your own hands."

Heejung realized his comment, her face blowing up red. She glared, stepping forward.

"E-Excuse me!?"

However, Mr. Shinhan ignored her retaliation. He withdrew a thin rectangular box from his pocket, a pen following soon after. With quick strokes, he signed his name next to the hefty check of 2,000,000,000 Wons and handed it off to the auctioneer.

"_**This purchase brings Ms. Heejung Kim's total worth to be an amazing amount of 2,000,015,000 Wons! The most this gallery has ever seen!" **_

Gripping the edge of the painting, the banker hoisted the piece from the ground. With this, he began to stride off of the stage, ignoring the look of annoyed embarrassment on Heejung's face. He continued quickly down the aisles, further ignoring the stares of angry and shocked patrons.

Heejung realized her own lack of activity, and with a swift jump, she landed on the ground before the stage. She walked quickly, determined to catch the man exiting the gallery. The whispers and glares no longer seemed to chain her, as she gave no second thought to their demands for her to stop.

She no longer felt the need to justify her actions for them.

She no longer wore a plastic smile just to appease them.

Heejung caught the front door to the gallery as it neared the frame. She jerked the glass open, and seeing only the shrinking back of a finely-tailored suit descending the stairs, she yelled.

"Wait!"


	10. My Spotted Rabbit

The banker stopped, his foot still hanging in the air. He paused just a moment before looking back.

Standing in the doorway of a high class art gallery was a new up-and-coming artist. She wore a strangely bright pink dress with matching heels that probably hurt more than she led on. In her brown hair was a headband that tied the entire outfit together with her curling locks of hair. Her makeup stained face hid not imperfections, but red-skinned sorrow. The artist's amber eyes stared to the banker in both astonishment and confusion.

To this, the banker could only smile.

_I guess I'm not the only one who changed. _

"You... Why did you buy it?" Heejung struggled to breath after her nearly jog of a pace, making her words come out rather breathlessly.

The banker set the painting down, sensing his exit wasn't going to be as quick as he had thought. Perhaps it would be better that way.

"I told you before. I thought this painting showed me what you're like as opposed to all the others." He glanced to the bright colors.

"This is the Heejung that I know."

_He doesn't make any sense. Does he know me? He keeps talking like we're old friends or something, but I just can't..._

She looked to his face, studying the features.

_He's so familiar, but I just can't place where I met him. _

Heejung remained silent, though it didn't seem to unnerve the banker. He simply stared upwards to her, green eyes shining in the warm afternoon light. His blonde hair was washed over by a breeze, breaking the still picture Heejung had begun to paint in her mind. However, the banker sighed, running a hand through his hair awkwardly.

"My name... it's Jiwoo. If that means anything to you."

His words worked their way towards the artist, freezing her into her spot. Slowly, her amber eyes began to widen. Her lip-gloss stained lips parted, gaping her mouth in shock.

_**If you have lost your memory by calling me to this world, I promise I will come find you.**_

Jiwoo looked as the expression on Heejung's face morphed to shock, disbelief, and then sadness. However, soon, her head dropped the stare to the ground. Heejung's fists tightened, squeezing her skin white.

Jiwoo stood on his stairs, unable to move. How could he? How could he work past his nerves? After so long, after so many years of searching, reshaping his life, he had found her. He was speechless. And he couldn't move. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from his life, but she... She didn't remember. He could see the struggle in her huge eyes. She so desperately wanted to remember, but nothing filled her mind. He was just a familiar stranger, and it was hurting her. And he hated it.

Jiwoo looked away in shame.

Why had he even come..?

"J-Jiwoo..."

Heejung's words whipped the man's head towards her stance.

Staring down to the stairs were large amber eyes filled with tears. They tumbled down from her cheeks, dropping to the pavement and shading it into another color. Her small body shook with emotion, opening the rabbit's mouth in disbelief.

Heejung shook her head, trying to dismiss the tears. She wiped her cheeks, sniffing.

"Jiwoo..." This girl's legs gave out, dropping her to her knees. Perhaps that single action was what gave Jiwoo the ability to finally move. He ran from his stairs, dropping next to her. Despite the obvious strange air between the two, he couldn't help but lightly grab her shoulders in comfort. Though Heejung stared only to the ground, he could hear her whispered words.

"Jiwoo... I know that name... Jiwoo... Where do I know that name..? I can't remember you, but..." She squeezed her eyes tightly, shaking her head as though a bad memory was surfacing.

"That name makes me _so sad. _I can't..." She felt the tears building up again, clouding her vision as she opened her eyes. She looked up to Jiwoo, tears streaming down her red cheeks.

"I don't know why I'm crying."

A moment passed between the two as those words hit Jiwoo.

What were they supposed to mean? What was her crying at the very mention of his name supposed to convey? After all, he did leave her at the worst possible moment. He had abandoned her, no matter how it wasn't his intention. Perhaps he had hurt her far worse than he had thought.

Jiwoo's eyes dropped to the ground.

And after all those years of looking for her.

And all those years of trying to become a better person.

Only to realize that he might not be the best person to be with her.

The hand holding onto Heejung's shoulders lost strength as the rabbit experienced inner turmoil he would have never thought he would ever have. Should he leave? Was it best to just let her live out her life rather than plague her with the pain of not remembering? What was the right thing to do in these circumstances?

"Jiwoo... That's..." Heejung's words lifted the banker's eyes, directing them to a warm smile on a breezy afternoon. He saw a small laugh, followed by an even larger smile.

"That's the only thing... Ever since I lost my memory, that's the only thing that I've felt was familiar. That book I found in my old apartment, you wrote it, right? Are you the, 'Brown-spotted rabbit?' Are you the rabbit I named Jiwoo?" She asked, putting two and two together.

Jiwoo sat silent for a moment, wide eyes trying to see into the girl he lightly held onto. He tried to see the joke that was being played on him, or the fake Heejung that the wizard would make disappear any moment, but he couldn't find either.

And nothing made him happier.

In an attempt to stop the overflowing emotions he felt from spilling to his composed face, the banker dropped his head. He covered his eyes with his hands, pressing into his cheeks. Even so, he couldn't stop his tears from trailing through, or his mouth to form an ugly crying scowl. His teeth came together, grinding against one another.

This is what he had been waiting for all these years.

A gentle hand came forward, landing in the rabbit's blonde hair. He looked up, seeing the very same smile that had been there minutes before.

"_If you have lost your memory by calling me to this world, I promise I will come find you.__' _It's okay. Please stop crying, Jiwoo... Because..." Heejung nodded, laughing once more.

"Because you found me."


End file.
